Page 9 of Craving Paradise
I reach the room and steady my nerves as it’s always nerve-wracking to walk into a room with a stranger you are about to become intimate with. I peep through the window to see how Mr. Fox is doing. He’s sitting on the bed, lost in his thoughts. His shoulders are bunched up tightly, his brows are pinched together, and every muscle looks wound tight. Has he come here tonight to release some of his tension? It’s not an uncommon thing for men to do. This changes how I’ll approach him tonight. Something in his outside life is causing him distress, and I don’t want to do anything that will add to it.
My hand wraps around the metal doorknob, and I turn it, stepping into the room. Mr. Fox lifts his head, and his face quickly sheds the stress it was harboring earlier when he thought no one was watching him. Those forest-green eyes widen as they quickly sweep over me as I enter the room. His intensity sends a shiver down my spine as his eyes turn golden with heat. At least I know he finds me attractive, which never hurts. I place the tablet on the side docking station and swipe off his profile. The guests don’t need to see our private notes about them. Once swiped out, you need a pin code to get into the staffing area of the tablet. Guests can still use it if we leave it in the room. They just can’t see anything they’re not supposed to.
“Good evening, Mr. Fox, I’m Ren. I’ll look after you this evening.”
“Ren …” he says my name, rolling the letters over his tongue as he holds out his hand for me to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” I answer flirtatiously. The man is hot. If I had met him outside of the club, I’d have been making a beeline straight toward him, and I’d take him home with me. “I’ve read your profile before coming in this evening, and I’m happy to accommodate your wishes.”
“Anything in particular?” he asks with a boyish grin.
“I have some ideas. First, though, you’re looking a little tense. Would you like me to start the night with a massage, easing away whatever tension there is? It can be sexual or non-sexual, whichever you prefer?”
Mr. Fox falls silent for a couple of moments, and I worry I’ve overstepped in my assessment.
“Is it that obvious I’m stressed?” he asks as those forest-green eyes narrow in on me, and a blond brow raises high with curiosity.
“Not in this moment, but before I entered the room, I noticed,” I tell him honestly.
Mr. Fox rakes his hand through his blond hair and nods in understanding of my observation. “If I’m honest, Ren. I don’t want to think anymore. I’m exhausted from making so many decisions. I want a moment where I don’t have to,” he confesses. And I can see the agony of whatever he’s dealing with in his private life come through at that moment.
It’s a common request from male and female guests. They want to step into this fantasy world and get taken away from their everyday lives. Most guests who frequent the club are high-net individuals who must be at the top of their working day, all day, every day. By the time they come to the club, they are decision-fatigued and having to make another one stresses them out. And that’s not the point of The Paradise Club. We’re here to take your troubles away, even if it’s for one night.
“You want me to be in control tonight?” I ask him seriously.
“Yes,” he answers as his shoulders sag with relief that he can lose himself for an hour or two and know everything is going to be okay. Just because these people are rich doesn’t mean they don’t have the same problems as everyone else, they’re just a little more magnified.
“Do you trust that I’ll honor your likes and steer clear of your dislikes?”
“Yes.”
“Good. How about this? Let’s start the night off by releasing all this tension from your muscles?” I reach out and squeeze his tight shoulders. “I’ll pour you a bath in the Jacuzzi, the warm water will release those muscles, and then I can work them over with my hands on the massage table.”
Green eyes flare with desire as he listens to me. “Will you be naked for the massage?” he asks, giving me a playful smirk.
“Of course.”
Mr. Fox’s smile widens, and he nods.
Gosh, he’s hot. Concentrate, Lauren. Get his bath ready. You’ll soon have time to get your fill of Mr. Fox.
“I’ll go get your bath poured. If you would like a shower first, you’re more than welcome. While the bath is filling up, I’ll get the massage table set up for you. Are there any scents you don’t like?” I ask him.
“Not really. I think anything is fine.”
“Great, well, I’ll get that bath ready for you,” I say, turning on my heel and heading toward the bathroom off the main bedroom. Mr. Fox follows me. I bend over, turn on the hot and cold faucets, running my hand under the water until I find the right temperature. When I turn back around, Mr. Fox is standing there watching me with heated eyes.
“Let me undress you,” I say, running my tongue over my lip.
He nods, and I step toward him. My hand reaches out, and I unbutton his white business shirt, one button at a time. I can feel the intensity of him watching as I undress him. He doesn’t move an inch, letting me set the pace. I get to the last button, throw open his shirt, and am impressed to see his clearly defined six-pack underneath, not bodybuilder cut but perfectly trim. He chuckles as I lick my lips in appreciation. I look up and am met with those intense forest-green eyes trained on me.
“Keep going,” he says, encouraging me.
My hands grip his shirt, and I push it off his shoulders. The material flutters to the floor. Next, I grab his belt, unbuckling the metal and pulling it back through the loops until it falls beside us. I flick my wrist and make the leather crack, making Mr. Fox jump as he wasn’t expecting it. He lets out a deep chuckle.
“Turn around,” I command, and he does as he’s told. “Your profile says you don’t mind a spanking. Shall we see if that’s true?”
Mr. Fox places his hands on the edge of the Jacuzzi and presents his tight ass to me. I wrap the belt into a loop and slap it against my hand, the crack echoing through the tiled bathroom. Mr. Fox turns his head at the sound, and a grin forms across his face. I raise a brow at him, and he nods, letting me know he’s okay with what I’m about to do. I raise the belt and lightly bring it down against his denim-clad ass. Starting lightly to see his threshold, he grunts at the connection.